Sherlock's Halloween
by A Pirate By Any Other Name
Summary: Sherlock is reluctantly pulled into Mrs. Hudson's preparations for Halloween. John oversees, and Molly Hooper and Mary Mortsan are there to watch. Read for some Happy Halloween fun with our favorite consulting detective!
1. Episode 1

**DISCLAIMER:**Sherlock and all it's characters, etc. belongs to BBC, Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss and its brilliant cast. I am only playing with them. No money is being from this story!

**Author Note:** So I carved a few pumpkins today, and as I did I imagined what it would be like if Sherlock was there carving too...and this little nugget was born. I dedicate this to my most wonderful friend and fellow fangirl, Adi, who is **Adi Who Is Also Mou**. Go read her stuff, she's awesome!

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**Of Pumpkins and Carving Knives**

"Come on Sherlock, we're all doing one! You have to make one too," John ordered the sulky detective who was curled up on the couch in his tattered blue dressing gown and pajama pants. He helped Mrs. Hudson clear away the usual mess of books, beakers and empty take-away dishes from the table and set out some old newspapers in their place.

"Oh Sherlock, why can't you clean this mess now and then? I told you company would be coming later..." Mrs. Hudson fretted, trying to straighten up the disordered kitchen.

"Sorry, Mrs. Husdon," John said sheepishly. He hurried about the kitchen, helping her out the best he could before the company arrived. He threw a glare over at Sherlock, who was staring at the ceiling. "And for heaven's sake, Sherlock, put on some clothes! They'll be here any minute—"

John was interrupted by the tinkling of the doorbell and the sound of people coming up the stairs. He glared once more at Sherlock, who hadn't moved a muscle and hurried to the door.

"Oh hello Mrs. Hudson! Hi John." The bright voice of Molly Hooper filled the kitchen. "I brought the pumpkins, I've got two here, but the rest I had to leave at the bottom of the stairs," she said a little breathlessly.

"I'll get them," said John, jumping into action. "Hello Mary." He smiled warmly at his girlfriend, Miss Mary Mortsan, who was standing behind Molly holding an enormous pumpkin.

"Thank you John," Molly said gratefully.

Mrs. Hudson bustled over. "He's such a thoughtful young man, isn't he? Oh, you can put those right here, dear." She gestured to the newspaper-covered table and counter. The girls set down their pumpkins with a small sigh of relief.

Molly slid a bag off her shoulder. "I brought all my old carving kits," she said excitedly. "I think there are knives enough for all of us, and some scoops for the inside..." she trailed off as Sherlock suddenly appeared in the kitchen. Molly took one look at him in his dressing gown and blushed. "Oh, um, hello Sherlock," she stuttered, studiously avoiding looking at his bare chest.

Sherlock ignored her stutter and nodded. "Miss Hooper, Miss Mortsan." He then addressed Mrs. Hudson, who was busy separating the carving knives. "Tea, Mrs. Hudson?"

She pursed her lips and tutted. "I'm not your housekeeper, Sherlock! And anyway, we are carving pumpkins. And that includes you, young man! We can have tea and biscuits afterwards." Molly's eyes widened at the sight of the older woman scolding Sherlock like a little boy. Mary stifled a giggle.

Sherlock frowned. "I think not, Mrs. Husdon."

"Is he still refusing?" asked John, who chose that moment to re-enter the kitchen carrying the last two pumpkins. All the women nodded. John gave him a look. "Oh come on, Sherlock, how bad can it be? It's not as if you have anything better to do."

"I can think of many better things," said Sherlock petulantly.

John rolled his eyes, but surprisingly it was Molly who burst out, "But it's Halloween, Sherlock! It will b-be fun." She blinked her large brown eyes at him imploringly.

"I see no point in cutting silly images in the side of a large fruit in "celebration" of All Hallows Eve, which is a senseless holiday in any case," Sherlock deadpanned.

Molly visibly deflated, but Mary cut in. "It's not senseless! It's all for a bit of good fun. You do know what "fun" is, don't you Sherlock?" John grinned at her fiery retort. She had been around Sherlock long enough to know not to take any crap from him.

Sherlock snorted. "Of course I do. But carving pumpkins is not what I'd consider "fun." Besides, why should why should I get my hands sticky merely for the sake of something that is only last a week at most?"

At this John immediately scoffed. "Seriously, Sherlock? You're whining about getting your hands sticky? You experiment with _dead_ things, yet you complain about a bit of pumpkin seeds and juice?"

Sherlock looked indignant. "Hardly, John. Besides, my experiments have a purpose. Carving pumpkins does not."

"Does too!" said Molly, gaining her voice back. "They're lovely decorations and the kids love to see them when they go out trick-or-treating!"

Sherlock waved a hand. "Another senseless activity. And boring. Hardly worth my time."

"But," Molly started, but John waved her off.

"Never mind him, Molly. Let him sulk. Pumpkin carving is _obviously_ beneath him. He probably wouldn't be very good at it anyway." Molly looked downcast, but nodded and set about getting her pumpkin ready to carve. John watched Sherlock carefully out of the corner of his eye. As predicted, he swelled up indignantly.

"I never said I _couldn't_ carve a pumpkin, John. I merely said it would be a waste of my time."

John shrugged and picked up his own pumpkin and a carving knife. "Semantics. I don't think you can do it, Sherlock. You obviously are afraid of making a fool of yourself." Molly and Mary both hid smiles, immediately catching on to what John was trying to do. Mrs. Hudson clucked and shook her head. She picked up her carving knife and began cutting a hole in the top of her pumpkin.

Sherlock's lips tightened and he turned and left the room without a word. Molly and Mary looked after him in disappointment, but John just went about cutting a hole in the top of his pumpkin, acting as though Sherlock had never left. "Best get to it, girls," he said. Together they shrugged and picked up their knives.

They had barely started scooping out the insides of their pumpkins when Sherlock stormed back into the room wearing jeans and a pain grey t-shirt. "I'll prove it to you, John. And when I'm finished, _then_ you can tell me I'm afraid of making a fool of myself." He snatched up a carving knife and strode over to the last pumpkin, stabbing into its top with unnecessary force.

John put his hands up in a defeated gesture. "Whatever you say, Sherlock." He exchanged a significant look with Mary and Molly, who were both looking on with great amusement. Ms. Hudson simply sighed happily.

For the next hour only the sound of carving knives cutting into pumpkin flesh and the solid "thunk" of chunks of pumpkin being cut out into odd shapes and dropped to the floor was heard in the flat. Of the five of them, Sherlock seemed to be concentrating the most intensely. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was set in a firm line of determination. John kept making faces and shaking his head, Molly was biting her lip, and Mary had her tongue out as she carved. Mrs. Hudson moved in practiced movements that spoke of many years of carving practice.

Finally, with Sherlock finishing up last, the pumpkins were ready to be lit. When the lights went out, there was a collective gasp of "oohs," from all the women. John nodded proudly at their creations, and Sherlock smirked in satisfaction. He turned to John, who was staring at Sherlock's pumpkin with a look of surprise. "What is your conclusion, doctor? Have I made a fool of myself?"

John snorted. "Not yourself, just the rest of us. Have you done this before?" In the last hour, Sherlock had managed to carve an incredibly detailed and honestly frightening demon into the side of his pumpkin. It cast strange shadows on the walls and cabinets in the kitchen.

"That's incredible, Sherlock!" Molly gushed, and Mary agreed.

"A little scary, though, dear," said Mrs. Hudson mildly.

"As it should be, Mrs. Hudson. Halloween is after all, a night of fright," Sherlock said smugly. He realized the rest of them were looking at him expectantly, so he looked at their creations as well. John had made a simple but well-cut face with pointy teeth, a typical Halloween-y type design; Mary had cut a slightly more complicated witch flying on broomstick, Mrs. Hudson had skillfully made a frightened ghost, and Molly had surprisingly made a difficult looking scarecrow. Sherlock nodded. "My deduction is that all of our pumpkins have been carved with skill to achieve satisfying results. They should provide optimum visual stimulation for people passing by our flat."

John rolled his eyes, Molly smiled in amusement and Mary said, "So...they're good?"

Sherlock gave them a small smile. "Indeed, Miss Mortsan. Very good."

John grinned. "I knew you would enjoy it, Sherlock."

Sherlock looked indifferent. "I merely enjoy proving you wrong."

John nodded and his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Sure, whatever you say, Mr. I-can-carve-a-pumpkin-better-than-you." Sherlock didn't dignify that with an answer.

Mrs. Hudson chose this moment to speak up. "Well I think they are all wonderful. They'll look so good on our doorstep for trick-or-treaters. You'll be helping us pass out candy too, right Sherlock?"

The horrified look on Sherlock's face was all it took for John and the girls to dissolve into laughter.

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**Author Note 2: **I'm thinking about continuing this with a few more one-shots of Halloween adventures with Sherlock. What do you think? Should I do it? Tell me in a review!


	2. Episode 2

**DISCLAIMER:**Sherlock and all its characters, etc. belongs to BBC, Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss and its brilliant cast. I am only playing with them. No money is being from this story!

**Author Note: **So I got a good response from the last little story, so I thought I'd continue this Halloween fun. Besides, who wouldn't want a chance to play dress-up with Sherlock? Enjoy this second episode. :)

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**A Study in Eye Patches and Buckles**

"For godsakes, Sherlock, _come out,_" John muttered darkly at Sherlock's bedroom door.

"No."

John exhaled loudly through his nose. "It's not as if you've never dressed up before, Sherlock. I've seen you wear the most ridiculous—"

"That was for a case," Sherlock cut in from behind his door. John rolled his eyes to heaven.

"It's a _costume_ party, Sherlock. All of us are wearing costumes, you won't be the only one," he tried to explain for what felt like the thousandth time.

"I don't see why I can't go as myself," Sherlock argued.

"Because Sherlock, that's not how it works. You'd look more ridiculous if you went as yourself than if you just dressed up like the rest of us. Hell, even _Mycroft_ showed up in costume." John muttered the last bit to himself, still not quite believing it. He had been more than shocked when Sherlock's elusive older brother showed up on their doorstep not only in costume, but without his usual PA, Anthea.

"Where's Anthea?" John had asked.

Mycroft smirked and said "She had a previous engagement."

"But I thought she didn't get days off," John persisted.

"She doesn't," answered Mycroft, and before John could question him any further, he slipped into the kitchen to greet Mrs. Hudson.

John shook his head. He might never get used to the antics of the Holmes brothers. Suddenly he realized Sherlock had fallen silent. He pressed an ear to the door. Just as he was about to start chiding him again, Sherlock spoke. "Mycroft is in costume? Did he follow Mrs. Hudson's chosen theme?"

John smirked. He should have known Sherlock wouldn't want to be out done by his brother. "Well, not exactly," he admitted. John wasn't lying. Mycroft had dressed up and his costume _did_ go with everyone else's, but it wasn't quite the same.

"I see," said Sherlock slowly. "And what _exactly_ did my dear brother come dressed as?"

John sighed. "A seventeenth century naval officer. And it looks pretty authentic."

"I'll bet it does," muttered Sherlock. John almost missed it. He stepped up to the door and raised his fist to pound on it when suddenly Sherlock threw it open and stepped out, narrowly missing John's fist. He was dressed in full pirate regalia, complete with a devilish captain's hat and feather.

His dark curls had been pulled rakishly to one side and his wide-brimmed hat pulled low on his brow. His coat coat was a deep blood red with golden lapels. A white, lace-cuffed shirt spilled out from his coat sleeves and was held tight to his chest by a black silk vest. He wore matching tight black breeches tucked into a pair of pirate boots and a purple sash around his waist. He had a sword strapped to his side and a double barrel pistol in his belt.

John's mouth dropped open and his leaned forward for a better look. "Is that pistol real? Where did you..."

Sherlock waved him off. "Never mind that John." His piercing blue eyes swept over John's appearance—a dark blue bandana on tied around his head, a black eye patch, a billowing, cream-colored shirt tucked into dark blue trousers and a pair of brown pirate boots. "I suppose it can't hurt to tag along with you for a while," he said a bit tightly. John just smiled. "Well go on, lead the way!" Sherlock groused, waving him forward.

John pushed past him, his grin never leaving his face. "Mrs. Hudson is going to be thrilled you know," he said. Sherlock made a non-committal noise and continued to follow John morosely to the kitchen, where the sounds of laughter and conversation could be heard.

Just before they reached the kitchen door, Sherlock held out a hand to stop them. "So you're my first mate, I take it?" he asked.

John nodded and gave Sherlock a mock salute. "Aye, aye, Captain," he said, then walked into the kitchen. "Oi! Everyone! The Captain's finally decided to join us!" There was a loud cheer and Sherlock rolled his eyes, muttering darkly about missing his skull. He walked stoically into the room, stiffly nodding his head in greeting.

Mrs. Hudson immediately bustled over. She was wearing the dress of a serving wench and had large gold hoop earrings in. "Oh Sherlock dear, you look wonderful. So dashing. I knew you would like it. John told me you wanted to be a pirate once," she said with a smile.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and shot a glance over to his faithful companion, and then to his brother sitting near the snack table. Someone had been blabbing... He turned back to Mrs. Hudson and gave her a small smile. "It is entirely satisfactory, Mrs. Hudson," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must speak with my brother..." he slid past her with a nod towards Mycroft.

"Oh yes, of course dear," said Mrs. Hudson, who was already turning back to fetch her wine glass. Sherlock spun around and promptly ran into someone small and soft. He looked down to see the surprised face of Miss Molly Hooper looking up at him.

"O-oh, hi Sherlock," stuttered Molly, clearly flustered to be this close to him. Sherlock stared at her for a few moments. She looked quite different than she normally did. Sherlock was momentarily surprised.

Her red-brown hair was free of its usual ponytail and fell down in waves on her shoulders. It was held back by a dark green bandana. Her hazel eyes were lined with kohl and her lips were painted a rosy red. She wore a pine green coat cut in the same style as Sherlock's, with big black buttons and lapels. Underneath she wore a loose white shirt and a black corset with tight black pants and tall black boots. A large gold hoop dangled from one ear. "You look like quite the pirate queen, Miss Hooper," Sherlock intoned, a slight gleam coming into his eye.

Molly blushed, two spots of pink blooming on her cheeks. "Thank you," she managed to say. Sherlock smiled.

"Shall I get you a glass of wine?" he asked. Molly flushed even deeper pink and barely managed to nod her head. Sherlock made an abrupt about-face and strode over to the counter where Mrs. Hudson had set out glasses and a bottle of chilled red wine. He deftly poured himself and Molly a glass.

Molly's fingers trembled as she took the glass from his proffered hand, but she managed not to spill a drop. "I," Molly started, then took a breath. "I really like your costume, Sherlock."

Sherlock grinned. "It is rather good isn't it?" Molly giggled and nodded. Suddenly Sherlock caught sight of his frowning brother in the corner. "If you'll excuse me, Molly, I must speak with my brother," he said and strode off before hearing her answer. Had he looked back, he would have seen Molly heave a sigh of relief and quickly join Mary, who was dressed in a similar outfit, on the couch in the living room. The two immediately bent their heads together in deep conversation, no doubt about a certain consulting detective and his dear friend.

Sherlock paid them no mind. He quickly made his way over to his brother, who smirked when he saw Sherlock's outfit. "Finally being what you've always wanted to be, brother?" Mycroft asked.

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "Perhaps," he said lightly. "Someone has been blabbing about me."

Mycroft held his hands up in surrender. "Don't go pointing fingers at me, little brother. It was your good friend Mr. Watson who suggested tonight's theme."

"Which you clearly didn't understand," Sherlock retorted.

Mycroft straightened and adjusted his jacket. "Of course I did. This fits the theme. Someone had to represent the authority around here," he sniffed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "So naturally, it had to be you. I would think a Captain would be authority enough," he said, gesturing towards himself.

"Leave you in charge? I think not," snorted Mycroft. He picked up his food plate and dipped an apple slice in caramel sauce. Quick as a wink Sherlock's hand darted forward and he snatched it out of Mycroft's hand.

"Ah, ah, ah," he said, holding the apple slice out of Mycroft's reach. "Aren't we on a diet?"

Mycroft frowned. "Really, brother, hold old are you? I am perfectly capable of deciding what I eat without your childish antics."

"Pirate," said Sherlock cheekily. Mycroft rolled his eyes and took his plate out of Sherlock's reach.

"The diet is going fine," he said a little stiffly and walked away. Sherlock didn't bother hiding his delight when he saw Mycroft dispose of the sweet treats on his plate a little while later.

"What are you grinning about?" asked John. He meandered over towards Sherlock and fixed him with a questioning gaze. Sherock shrugged.

"Nothing of consequence," Sherlock said lightly. "Little victories."

John waved him off. "Whatever. I knew you would have a good time. And see?" he said, gesturing around to the costumed room. "You don't look at all ridiculous. Your costume is fantastic, though I still don't know where you got that gun."

Sherlock smiled. "Oh, I just had it lying around, you know me. A bit of this, a bit of that. Never know what might come in handy."

John shook his head. "Just don't tell me it was the murder weapon in some unsolved eighteenth century case or something."

Sherlock gave him an odd look. "Alright, I won't."

John choked on his sip of wine. "I was joking!"

"So was I," said Sherlock with a grin. "I do believe the phrase is _trick_ or treat."

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," said John, shaking his head.

Sherlock gave him another wry grin. "What can I say John? It's a pirate's life for me." He chuckled as John put his head in his hands. Celebrating Halloween was turning out to be more fun than he thought.


	3. Episode 3

**DISCLAIMER:**Sherlock and all its characters, etc. belongs to BBC, Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss and its brilliant cast. I am only playing with them. No money is being from this story!

**Author Note: **Happy Halloween everyone! I meant to get this out on Wednesday, but alas, time got away from me. This will be the last one-shot I do for this series, this year. I may pick it up again next year for even more Halloween fun with Sherlock. Because let's face it, the possibilities are endless and there is plenty of story material here! Thanks for reading and enjoy.

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**Trick-or-Treat, Sherlock?**

"I don't see why I have to do this," mumbled Sherlock for the dozenth time.

"Oh, stop your whining," said John, adjusting his eye patch. He, Mrs. Hudson, Molly and Mary were all dressed in their pirate outfits from the previous night's costume party. They were currently emptying large bags of assorted candy into bowls. "We've been through this. You are helping us pass out candy because it's Halloween and Mrs. Hudson asked us to." He threw aside an empty bag. "Besides Sherlock, you had fun with everything else, what makes you think you won't enjoy this?"

"I see little fun to be had in passing out candy to children," snapped Sherlock. He sat sullenly on the couch, arms folded over his chest. He had refused to wear his pirate outfit again and John couldn't for the life of him figure out where Sherlock had hidden it. Instead, Sherlock had put on a black t-shirt with a skull and crossbones on it; a gift from Mrs. Hudson.

John rolled his eyes, but it was Mary who retorted this time. "Come now, Sherlock, surely you and Mycroft went trick-or-treating when you were boys? Don't you remember how fun it was?" Sherlock was silent.

"I went as a bumblebee once," Molly piped up suddenly. She blushed as everyone's eyes turned to her. "It was my favorite costume."

Mary smiled. "My favorite was the year I went as Rapunzel. My mother made me a really long blonde wig from yellow and white yarn...I wore it around the house for weeks!" She laughed. "What about you, John?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "My favorite costume was probably," he paused for a moment and looked at the floor.

Mary and Molly leaned forward and even Sherlock cocked his head in interest. "What? What was it?"

"A tiger. I had this tiger suit I wore when I was four and five. I thought it was the greatest costume. I used to hide behind the couch and scare my sister Harry with it." John shrugged. Molly and Mary both giggled, and no one saw Sherlock hide a smile. "It was just kid stuff," said John waving them off.

Suddenly everyone turned their gaze on Sherlock. He stared back. "What?"

"Well?" asked John expectantly. Sherlock showed no sign of comprehension.

"Wh-what was your favorite Halloween costume as a child, Sherlock?" Molly asked timidly. Sherlock stared sharply at her.

"I..."

He was cut off by the sudden arrival of Mrs. Hudson in the living room. "Alright dears, it's time to go down! Sherlock, do put a coat on; it's a bit nippy outside. And can't you put on your pirate hat to match the rest of us?" She scooped up a large bowl of candy on the counter and bustled away before he could answer.

"You heard the lady, let's go!" said John cheerily. The girls smiled and picked up their own bowls of candy and headed down stairs. "Come on, Sherlock," John ordered.

Sherlock sighed. "Very well," he said. He slowly rose from the couch. "You go on, John; I'll be down in a minute."

John gave him a warning look. "You'd better be." He nodded and headed downstairs with his own bowl of candy. On the doorstep of 221B Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson had set out five chairs for all of them to sit in and pass out candy. When John had first heard her plan to do this, he wasn't sure they would have enough candy to last the night with all of them passing it out. He was soon informed, however, that Mycroft had offered to foot the bill for the candy, no doubt after hearing Sherlock would be involved.

He snorted and shook his head. After the shock of seeing Mycroft at the costume party, he decided nothing that man did would surprise him, especially when it came to keeping tabs on Sherlock. At the thought of his sullen companion, John looked back at the door to the flat. What on earth was Sherlock doing? They had already begun passing out candy, though the crowds hadn't been thick so far, only a slowly growing line of kids. Two here, one there, a small group of five. They were just about to the official starting hour.

Finally, just as John was about to storm back up stairs and drag Sherlock down by the collar if necessary, the consulting detective appeared in the doorway, bowl of candy under his arm. John smiled. Sherlock was wearing his pirate costume.

"Not a word," said Sherlock as he sat down beside John. All the girls had happily cheered when Sherlock joined them and assured him he hadn't missed much.

"Wasn't going to mention it," said John cheerfully.

Sherlock pursed his lips. "I still don't see how this is supposed to be fun," he grumbled.

"Oh come on, Sherlock," John said, straining his neck to look down the sidewalk, "Don't you find it interesting to see all the different costumes?"

"Not particularly," Sherlock answered.

John was stopped from retorting by two kids dressed as toy soldiers marching up to him and Sherlock, their treat bags open and grins on their faces. "Trick or treat!" they chorused.

"Working mother, father stays at home because he recently lost his job and he's a terrible cook. They ordered take away tonight," Sherlock muttered before dropping a candy bar in each child's bag. John did the same, though his eyes popped out a bit at Sherlock's words.

"Wh-what?" he choked, then glanced at the retreating kids' backs. They joined a tired-looking man in a rumpled brown jacket further down the sidewalk. John sighed in exasperation. "Oh for the love of—Sherlock, are you going to be doing this all night? Can't you turn it off?"

Sherlock gave John an odd look. "I won't pretend to know what you mean." Another child walked up to them wearing a little witch's dress and hat. Her face had even been painted green. "Trick or treat!" she said happily, holding out her pumpkin-shaped bucket. Both John and Sherlock dropped a candy bar in it. "Only child, two working parents, raised mostly by grandmother," he fired off quickly.

"That is exactly what I mean, Sherlock and you know it," John scolded. "They're just kids; you don't need to ramble off their life's story because you can smell their grandmother's rose-scented soap on them."

"Oh, you noticed that as well? You powers of observation are growing, John, you should be proud," said Sherlock, ignoring John's scolding tone. John rolled his eyes.

"You're hopeless."

Sherlock only smiled. He continued to ramble off his observations for every kid that came up to him, while John just sighed, and the girls ignored the boys altogether, cooing and smiling over every child and exclaiming about all the different costumes.

"Oh. My. Gods." Everyone's head turned when they heard Molly's exclamation. Wordlessly she pointed down the street, at a pair of little boys coming their way. One was taller than the other, with dark hair that was mostly covered by a now familiar deerstalker hat. He was wearing a black mini Belstaff coat and scarf with the collar popped up on the coat. John snorted with laughter.

"He's got you down pat," he laughed.

"I really despise that hat," Sherlock said mildly. He nodded towards the shorter boy beside the Sherlock look-alike. "I think that boy has done a fair job of imitating you as well." The short boy, who also had dark hair, was wearing an army green parka that looked remarkably like coat John frequently wore, jeans and little brown boots. He was marching along beside his brother with an air of importance.

"I have to get a picture of this," Molly said, pulling out her phone. She quickly snapped a few pictures as the boys approached.

"Oh, let me see," said Mary, leaning over to get a good. Molly handed her the phone. "They are so adorable! Were you ever that cute, Sherlock?" she asked, throwing him a grin.

Sherlock appeared unruffled by the question. "Of course," he answered seriously. He caught Molly staring at him and threw her a wink. She immediately turned bright red.

"Stop teasing them, Sherlock," John said, shaking his head at Sherlock's smug grin.

"They started it," he said childishly. By this time the boy Sherlock and John had arrived at 221B Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson was smiling and cooing over the pair of them.

"Oh, you look just like Sherlock and John; what wonderful costumes!" she said with a smile.

The boy Sherlock puffed up his chest a bit. "We tried to get our sister to dress as Mycroft, but wouldn't come," he sniffed.

"Then she is playing the part of Mycroft perfectly," Sherlock suddenly interjected. The boys' jerked their heads towards him, their eyes shining with excitement.

"Really?" said boy Sherlock, who sped quickly up to Sherlock, boy John in his wake.

"Yes," said Sherlock solemnly. He gestured to either side of him. "Do you see him here with me?" The boys shook their heads. "See? My brother wouldn't come either." He smiled at the boys and ignored John's clearing of the throat.

"Mycroft bought all this candy though," John interrupted, giving Sherlock a pointed glare.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, I suppose he did. But he's still not here."

"That's right! Just like my sister," said the boy Sherlock smugly, imitating Sherlock's tone.

"But Will, Marcy did help us get ready, and she even bought you that coat!" the boy John piped up. "So she did help us, just like Mr. Sherlock's brother helped him."

Will rolled his eyes and John beamed at the little boy. "I told you Eddie, to call me Sherlock for tonight. And I'll call you John." He ignored Eddie's fair point about their sister.

From beside them, Molly and Mary laughed. "You boys certainly have the act down perfectly. You sound just like Sherlock and John, arguing about silly things!"

The boys beamed. John, who figured this act had gone on long enough said, "Alright boys, what do you say?"

"Trick or treat!" they chirped, holding out their bags eagerly. Sherlock promptly dumped half of his candy bowl into their bags. The boys' eyes widened. "Thank you, Mr. Sherlock!"

"You're welcome," said Sherlock with a smile. The boys grinned and thanked John as well, then hurried off to the next house.

"I told you tonight would be fun," John said a bit smugly, seeing Sherlock's grin.

Sherlock quickly slipped into his serious face. "Flattery is not fun," he said.

John snorted and shook his head. "Now come on, Sherlock. Tell me this: have you been bored at all tonight?" Sherlock didn't answer. "I thought not."

Sherlock studiously ignored John for the rest of the night, and continued in his game of observations about the kids. Molly, Mary and Mrs. Hudson were keeping a running tab on the best costumes, and John was happy to watch Sherlock try not to enjoy himself. When the night finally ended and the stream of costumed children finally stopped, the group picked up their chairs and mostly empty candy bowls and trooped back up stairs.

Sherlock was the last to enter and follow them up to the kitchen, where everyone was laughing and talking about the night as a whole. He remained silent, watching as the girls unwrapped several of the leftover chocolate bars and savored them delightedly. Finally he spoke up. "Captain Hook, Miss Hooper."

Everyone stopped and stared at him. Molly looked at him confusedly. "Pardon?" she said, not understanding.

"You asked me earlier, Miss Hooper, what my favorite costume as a child was. I have no doubt you are aware that I was fond of pirates as a child?" She nodded. "I was particularly fond of the story _Peter Pan._ Captain Hook was my favorite costume as a child, and as you can see by my current attire, still is."

Molly blushed, Mary beamed, and Mrs. Hudson smiled. "Adorable," Mary murmured.

John just shook his head. "I _knew_ you would have a good time. Happy Halloween, Sherlock," he said.

Sherlock smiled. "Indeed."


End file.
